


Meet at Midnight

by TiroFinale



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Child, M/M, Medieval(ish), Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Probs more characters later on, Spirit!Thor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2668115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiroFinale/pseuds/TiroFinale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok team so in this Steve is a curious child and Thor is a forest spirit. They meet, thing happen.</p><p>(Mature for later on)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Meet at Twilight  
Midnight had always been a dark time for the people of Steve’s village. It was a time to stay away from the deep forests and the rocky mountains, where spirits were sure to be lurking. It was a time to fear, to stay locked up at home. The fear of this time was so great that people who wandered the street during it were said to be spirits themselves, and were burnt at the stake come morning. So, when a child was seen making his way to the forest that hugged the edge of the small mountain town, plans were made, kindling collected and his mother consoled.

Steve just didn’t get it. He didn't get why people hid away, when there was nothing out there. He stopped at the edge of the forest, just where the road turned to dirt and the buildings to trees. He took in a breath of the cold winter air, and let it out again in the form of fog. He had heard about the “spirit” that was meant to reside within this forest, that it lured men in with its extreme beauty. He had heard that after it had captured their hearts, it took their minds, turning them in walking shell, which then did its bidding. But Steve did not believe in spirits, and he would not be driven with the lust that others before him had.

So he kept walking, deeper and deeper in the dark forest. He could barely see, the moon only just lighting the path in front of him. He stumbled, grabbing onto a gnarled branch, its rough surface scraping his soft pale skin. A yelp slipped through his lips, piercing the thin veil of silence that had settled on the dark snowy forest. His head whipped around, seeing if he had disturbed anything. The forest was still, he was safe. 

He walked for what seemed like mere minutes, but when he looked up he was already half way up the side of the mountain, a trek that would have taken a fully grown man the better part of a day to complete. As he began to cough heavily, he regretted his choice not to bring any remedies for his weak lungs. He turned around, recovered from his cough, to look out at the view in front of him. From where he stood he could perfectly see the valley below and the expansive forest surrounding it. He scanned his surroundings, looking for anything out of place. He was about to turn around to continue his walk when a bright light flickered to life in the valley below. He ran. He ran down over the small stream, jumping over a ditch where a pack of wolves were resting, their grey muzzles turning towards his retreating form. They would not pick up chase, not tonight. They knew, they knew what he did not. Steve kept running, all thoughts of his weak body chased away by the mysterious light. Even when brambles pulled at his flaxen hair, even when twigs reached out like hands to batter his face, he kept running. He kept running, even when he knew if what he was running towards was what he thought it was, then his death was ensured. 

He burst out into a clearing, the forest floor was replaced with soft grass, and the trees with tall flowers. Sitting in the centre was a small figure, picking at the flowers and weaving them into some sort of crown. Steve frowned. Where was the beautiful spirit that lead men to their doom? Surly this child could not fill men with such lust. As Steve wondered what he should do next, the child looked up and turned towards Steve. He smiled, and beckoned Steve over. Before he could so much as speak, Steve felt a strange power forcing him forward. He look down, and saw that the flowers below his feet bending and swaying, pushing him towards the centre of the clearing. As he reached to boy, he was able to see more of his features. He had long blonde hair which reached down to just beyond his shoulders. His blue eyes were filled with joy, and his cheeks were full of colour. He looked overall healthy, and Steve couldn’t help but be just a little jealous.  
“Hello there.” Steve realized he was just staring and even if this was the spirit of legend, his mother had always taught him to be polite.  
“Uh, hello. Are you a spirit?” Steve’s hands flew to his mouth, shocked at what he had said. The boy had a look of shock on his face, before he broke down into laughter.  
“I apologize, I just wasn’t expecting that question. Yes I am a spirit, what are you? You look far too skinny to be a human.” Steve felt a blush rising in his cheeks.  
“Just because I’m skinny doesn’t mean I’m not a human!” The boy laughed again, picking another flower and weaving it into the crown in his lap.  
“And what is your name, skinny human?”  
“I’m Steve.”  
“Hello Steve, I’m Thor.” Thor moved aside and patted the ground next to him.  
“Why don’t you sit with me for a while, I can make you a flower crown.” Steve frowned,  
“I don’t know. I should probably get back to my mother, she must be worried by now.”  
“Do not worry Steve, you will be back to your mother in time for morning, I give you my word.” So Steve, still a little suspicious, sat down next to Thor and picked a flower to start his own crown. 

They sat for hours, chatting all the while. Steve learned many thing about Thor. He learnt that Thor was the son of the spirit of this forest, and would take over the rule once his father faded. He learnt that Thor had a younger brother who Thor was making the flower crown for. He learnt that when Thor laughed, it was infectious. After what must have been a couple of hours, Steve looked up at the sky to see that the stars were starting to fade, and he knew that the sun would rise soon. Thor saw him looking and produced something from a pocket hidden in his robes.  
“Here, take this so that if we ever meet again, I can know who you are.” Steve took the stone, and slipped it into his own pocket. He hesitated before leaning forward and placing the crown he had been making onto Thor’s head. Thor smiled, and thanked Steve before rising. Steve now saw just how much taller than Steve Thor was, and couldn’t hold back another pang of jealousy.  
“I hope we can meet again, Steve.” Steve smiled up at him.  
“Yeah, I hope so too. Goodbye Thor.” Steve turned to leave, facing in what he assumed was the direction of his village, and started walking.

 

 

Steve was making his way back to the village when out of nowhere he was enveloped in a hug, the familiar scent of his mother telling him who his ‘attacker’ was.  
“Mother? Why are you out here at this time?” His mother looked down at him, tears in her eyes.  
“Oh Steve, I thought I had lost you! Thank the gods you’re still alive! Quickly now, we must leave. The other villagers saw you going into the forest and if we go back, they’ll burn you at the stake.” Steve now understood his mother’s mood.  
“But mother, all your friends, all your things, I can’t make you leave those behind!”  
“Hush now, I would leave everything for my child. Now come, we have a long trek to the next village, and we don’t have time before they come after us.” So, Steve and his mother left their village behind, and as Steve looked back, he swore he saw a figure at the forests edge, watching them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't proofread this, I was veerrYY tired at the time, any mistakes are mine and any feedback Is very welcome!

It had been 8 years since the night he had met Thor, and since then Steve and his mother had moved in and out of several different villages, constantly being pursued by the gossip which had forced them out of their home in the first place. Steve had grown, his body filling out a little but still remaining thin and weak. His mother constantly struggled with the remedies required, as some of the ingredients were very expensive. This and the added guilt of forcing them out of their first home weighed heavily on Steve. So when Steve’s mother fell ill, he blamed himself. They had moved to a small cottage just outside the edge of a village which sat and the foot of a forest covered mountain. A stream wove its way down the slope and ran past the cottage, providing them with water and the occasional fish.   
This way there would be less people to recognise Steve, but they could still have access to the shops and protection that came with living in a village. The illness that had taken Steve’s mother had left her bed ridden, unable to go out and buy the medicine and food they needed. Because of this, Steve was the one who had to make the trip into the village with a hood covering his head, to avoid any unwanted attention. Their system worked well, Steve’s mother earning money by sewing and repairing clothes for the people of the village. Steve would then go into the town with the money and buy the essentials. However, Steve would also often become bedridden, and on during the week or so he took to recover, they would have to hire someone to bring them what they needed. This often cost a lot and would result in them not having enough money for medicine. 

It was on one of his trips to the village that he first encountered the bullies. He was making his way home from the market when he heard a shrill cry coming from an alley between two houses. Steve, all thoughts of recognition squashed back, ran down the alley to come across two boys about his age and a smaller boy, who looked around twelve. The two older boys were much larger than Steve, muscles evident on their thick arms. They were both crowding the smaller boy, one with his hand covering the child’s mouth while the other boy held back his arms.   
“Yell like that again and I’ll make sure you don’t scream again for a week.” Growled the boy with his hand over the child’s mouth. Steve felt his blood boil, would anyone do this? Why would you bully someone so much smaller and weaker than you? He felt anger rising in him, the small scrap of self-preservation he had, lost. He dropped the basket at the mouth of the alley and charged forward, yelling to try and pull the attention towards him.  
“Hey, stop that!” His plan worked, the two boys turned towards him, the child forgotten. As Steve threw a wild punch into the shocked face of one of the bullies, he saw out of the corner of his eye the boy slipping away. However he had no time for celebration as his fist connected with the bully’s face, and a crunching noise echoed through the alley. The punch had not had as much force as he would have liked, but he continued to throw as many as he could, nearly exhausting himself with the effort. Eventually the bullies regained themselves and started to fight back, punching much stronger and more efficiently. Steve felt a wave of fatigue going through his body, his small muscles not used to this kind of a beating. He collapsed onto the ground, where the bullies started kicking him in the stomach. He curled in on himself, trying his best to block any kicks he could. As the bullies started to tire, they stooped their kicks in favour of spitting on him. Throughout the fight Steve’s hood had miraculously stayed on, but now the bullies saw it. One of them leaned down to tug the fabric back over his head, revealing his bloodied face. Steve feared recognition for a moment, but the bullies’ faces showed no signs of it.  
“Shit, ma said if I get caught again she would tell dad.” The smaller bully said, worry evident on his face.  
“Let’s move him, somewhere where he won’t be seen.” The bigger bully took hold of Steve’s limp arms while the smaller one picked up his legs. The made their way down to the end of the alley, where the village ended and the forest started. They continued a little further into the trees till they reached the foot of a huge tree which towered far above the rest.  
“This should be good, no one dares to come here, Supposed to be cursed or something.” They drooped Steve, his back painfully making contact with the twisted roots running through the ground. One of them leaned down, his face close to Steve’s.   
“Consider this a warning punk, don’t mess with us, ok?” Steve, in far too much pain to reply only stared defiantly back in the bully’s eyes. They both snorted before turning and heading back the way they came, leaving Steve alone. Steve lay there for what seemed like hours, trying again and again to get up, only to find that he couldn’t even move his legs, let alone stand. He was just about to pass out from the pain and exertion when he felt himself being lifted up in strong arms, his body limp. Before he could see the face of his saviour his vision turned fuzzy, and then everything went black.

 

Steve woke slowly, his limbs aching dully. He opened his eyes, the familiar ceiling telling him that he was back in his home. As he moved to sit up, the events of the previous day rushed back to his head, forcing him back down. As he tried his best to calm his erratic breathing and heart, he remembered the strong arms he had felt just before he blacked out. Before he could contemplate who that could have been, his mother walked through the door to the cottage, her arms full of herbs and vegetables from their small garden.  
“Steve! You’re awake, no don’t try to sit up!” His mother fussed around him, pushing him gently down by the chest.   
“Mother, how did I back here?” Steve asked. His mother blinked at him in shock.  
“Do you not remember? You walked in about midnight, made a right racket, stomping in here.” Steve frowned, the last thing he remembered was being picked up. He decided to leave it for now, he did not wish to make his mother worry more. His mother turned to the kitchen, putting down her load and pulling out a large pot from the cupboard. She hummed as she worked, chopping up the vegetables and filling the pot. Steve cautiously slung both his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet making contact with the cold wooden floor. He leaned forward, putting weight on both limbs. They did not give under him, which was a good sign. He took a few steps forward before deciding that he could walk.   
“Do you need any help mother?” He asked, moving towards her in the kitchen.  
“Hmm? No Steve. Actually, if you could just pop into town to get some carrots, ours haven’t come up yet.”  
“Sure mother.” Steve grabbed the basket by the front door, and went on his way, down the step and towards the village.

**Author's Note:**

> So updates are gonna be real sloww. Yeah. All mistakes are my own, any advice or feedback is very much appreciated!


End file.
